Faceless
by 2slow4unow
Summary: After defeating Byakuran in the future, nothing had ever been more peaceful. There were no fights... There were no wars...until suddenly, all the small mafia families began dropping like flies. The attacker is strong, and Vongola is on the hitlist. DARK
1. Phone Call

**Faceless**

**1: Phone Call**

_After defeating Byakuran in the future, nothing had ever been more peaceful. There were no fights... There were no wars...until suddenly, all the small mafia families began dropping like flies. The attacker is strong, and Vongola is on the hitlist._

Faceless

A silhouette danced through the night skies of Nanimori, a trail of rattling chains following it. The shadow silently slid from tree to tree and house to house like it was merely the wind, and left no trace of where it landed and where it took off. Anyone walking by the person's wake would have suspected nothing, seen _nothing_ and heard _nothing_, because the presence it conjured was literally _nothing_.

But in the crisp moonlight, a girl was walking. Her hair was violet, the exact same hue as the the flowers she held and the single eye she bore. The other was concealed behind a single eye patch. Now on an ordinary day, that would have seemed normal and harmless the way the young girl strolled in the darkness, probably because there was nothing that could possibly hurt her. But this was under no circumstances a normal day.

Little did the purple clad girl know, she was walking straight toward where the shadow was slinking by with grace more like a cougar or a snake than a human. The shadow saw her, but was blatantly determined to keep going, even though an alarm was blaring danger. It was cautious of the girl, but also possessed an uncanny desire to both confront her and run in the other direction. None of the above was chosen, so it simply prayed that the purple girl wouldn't notice the slight breeze.

But she did. Chrome Dokuro looked up from where she was walking to the cemetery, just in time to see a little blotch of black darker than the rest blur away. She turned away and focused back on her own path, keeping up a front of indifference as if she hadn't seen or heard or noticed a thing. However, Chrome was very much unnerved.

Something was _wrong_.

As she reached the gravestone and lay the flowers on top, she noticed how strange they looked next to the miniature owl sculptures, and how odd they seemed to feel under the crescent's cold glow. Yes, a feeling in the air drew her ire. It was too bad her suspicions lay untied, for Chrome was too far away to hear the five gunshots followed by the five screams of pain and the five thumps of bodies falling down, and down, and down.

Faceless

Timeto, 9th Generation Vongola Boss, had passed away. His body was marched around the estate before being settled in his old mansion for all the members to see and mourn. 10th Generation Vongola Boss was there too. His name was Sawada Tsunayoshi. The brown haired young adult was dressed in a tight black tuxedo with a just as dark tie. The only bright colors were his eyes, but even they were fairly dull. The shirt under his formalwear was charcoal in color, but none the less dreary and depressing. It was, after all, traditional for funeral attire to be so deep.

It was the color of death. And death, according to Reborn, was the time when all people deserved the utmost respect.

To Tsuna's right was Gokudera Hayato—the right hand man. All the other guardians were lined up behind him with their heads bowed, still paying their respects. All of them were very different, not only in mood, but in personality. Over the past ten years, all of them had matured a considerable amount. The lame, skyward look in the 10th's face had long come and gone. Now there was only one of authority, understanding and calm determination.

And so, when Timeto had passed away, he didn't cry. Tsuna wanted to. He really, really did. But that wouldn't have been what the 9th would have wanted, right? Be strong till the very end. That's what he said, that's what he _always_ said.

So why was it still painful?

Faceless

Vongola the 9th died a peaceful death. There was no war, there was no fighting. All of that had gone. There was just happiness and justice now. It was diagnosed that he had died of old age and sickness. Yes, that came with everyone. Death was inevitable, and Reborn was proud that Timeto held out till the very end to make sure that every ounce of the Vongola was prepared for him to take his leave. He was even prouder that Tsuna had grown so much and was able to show his old friend that the strongest mafia family was in good hands.

When his passing was announced, Xanxus was angry. He came to the funeral early with the rest of the Varia, Fran included. But when he went up to his body, at Timeto's relaxed face, he said only one thing;

"You left me too early."

It was surprising coming from the ice cold hot headed Xanxus who detested his 'father' so much. It was a strange thing. But what was even stranger was that Xanxus seemed to be observing his former relative's body with a suspicious gaze. Reborn, with his older, uncursed body, was able to pick up that something was _wrong_.

Was it _really_ a peaceful death?

Why is there _copper_ in the air?

Faceless

The funeral was over. Each person had returned to their respective homes. All except 10th Vongola Boss and his famiglia.

"Reborn," Tsunayoshi addressed his advisor calmly. It was still awkward for him to be staring up at a full-fledged adult rather than a talking infant. "For what reason did you call us out?"

He narrowed his eyes, then. It had been a long time since Reborn had been so…urgent. "Is something wrong?"

Next to Hibari and Lambo (he's much older now), Chrome's eyes perked up. Her fingers fidgeted.

"Did you notice anything different about anyone… or any_thing_ at the funeral?" Reborn asked slowly.

There was a long silence. "Different how?"

"Like there's a _secret_ somebody knows, but we don't."

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Chrome then remembered the shadow she saw a week before. It was no illusion. No trick of the light. But she did not speak up.

"Use your hyper intuition," he pressed. "I'm digging for bones here, 10th Vongola Boss. You've got much to learn about the ways of the mafia even after over a decade of experience, but…" His jaw tensed. "You have to have noticed _something_."

"Reborn, does this have anything to do with the 9th?" Broke in Yamamoto Takeshi, his bright look gone without a trace. Even he knew this was no time for fun and games. Not anymore.

He nodded.

"This is strange to the extreme," Ryohei Sasagawa admitted. He no longer yelled, but was never able to get rid of his 'extreme' habit.

Something in Hibari clicked. It was, of course, like him to be one of the first to realize a notion. "Are you saying that the 9th was really killed, old man?"

"Maybe," he replied.

This time, Gokudera spoke. He had been silent the whole time, jotting down notes. He stood up at the same time so fast that his chair stumbled behind him. "If that's true, then 10th is in danger. If that's true, someone is out there and hasn't been caught. What if someone is hunting us down—hunting 10th down—right now? What if assassins are being dispersed?"

Yamamoto rose. "Don't draw conclusions so fast! Panic and we're all done for!"

"You don't get it! For every second we waste contemplating whether or not there is an assassin, the enemy will be contemplating how to kill the 10th. I won't let that happen!"

"No one wants to see that happen! Get your head straight. There hasn't been a fight since Byakuran, and even then we had our wits. It might not be anything at all. Remember that when Tim—when the 9th's body was checked, there were no wounds. Only a heart failure."

"He was old, too old. It had to come sometime," Ryohei added. Somehow, his voice was still quiet and collected. He was thinking. Just years ago, that very thought would have been crazy.

Yamamoto and Gokudera continued to argue across the table. Gokudera banged it in frustration, and a mug of coffee spilled over. Occasionally Ryohei would chip in to one side or the other, but otherwise sat in vigil. Tsuna hopelessly tried to stop them but was then startled by what one of them had said. Chrome wasn't able to hear what it was. Reborn was observing with his eyes narrowed. What was he thinking?

Chrome hadn't uttered a word for the whole meeting. At last she spoke up.

"Yamamoto…" she murmured so soft it could have been the wind. He didn't hear.

"Yamamoto!" She repeated. Again no response. But Tsuna heard her, and grabbed both his men's arms, nailing them to their chairs.

"Quiet you two," he said stoically. "Listen to what Chrome has to say."

They turned their heads to face her, both surprised and Yamamoto a little ashamed that he never noticed. She grabbed the chance before it slipped away.

"Um… Yamamoto… I think I saw something last week…"

She gulped, nervous.

"…That may have had to do with 9th Boss's death."

Reborn' gaze whipped to her so fast it was scary. "Go on," he said. "And take your time."

"Um… while I was walking to the Nanimori cemetery to grieve for Mukuro-Sama… someone was running toward where 9th boss was staying for the week…"

Chrome did not hear her voice grow smaller.

"…At the hideout."

Yamamoto dropped into his chair. Gokudera stood stiff, glaring at the ceiling.

"I didn't know what exactly it was, but I sensed it was powerful, and it was…unfamiliar."

"It was trying to avoid me. I felt like it knew who I was."

"I barely sense it…"

"…Yamamoto, I think it was an assassin!"

Reborn sucked in a quick breath and tilted his hat forward so it shaded his eyes. "That was the worst case scenario."

"Impossible…" Gokudera muttered. He knew it was coming. He did, he felt it, he smelled the heavy scent of copper at the funeral. He tasted it. He also smelled something akin to his sister's cookies.

No one noticed that Lambo was even there. They completely forgot about him until his voice sounded out in the reticence.

"This calls for a huge defense scan. Obviously we shouldn't use the hideout anymore. Out patrols are flawed—make them inconsistent. The enemy probably knows our every move. Tsuna, your life is in danger. Actually, all of ours is, Varia's Xanxus and Cavallone's Dino included. That means all of you should either form one big unbeatable fortress, or flee incognito."

Everyone stared at him in awe. "Lambo, that's a great idea, I'm shocked to say," Tsuna murmured, the edge of his lip twitching up. What a change. But their shock didn't last long. Soon, Reborn's phone rang. Then Ryohei's. Then Tsuna's, and Lambo's, Yamamoto's and Gokudera's.

"A mafia family off the coast of here was just taken down!" Reborn cursed.

"The branch in the south point was just set in flames!" Said Ryohei, eyes wide.

"The town there I-Pin was staying just fell under gunfire…!" Lambo cried.

"Squalo's unit was taken down and Xanxus is missing—"

"—My family in Italy is under siege!"

But the phone's kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Chrome looked around. Hibari wasn't here anymore, and her phone was silent. Gokudera was scrawling codes like a madman and cursing and tearing at the same time. It was panic.

As the rings died down and the information began to set in, everyone was thinking the same thing.

The mafia world is falling down.

Reborn was stressed. He was rubbing his temples and looked enraged at the same time. Ryohei was muttering and trying to contact Kyoko on his cell now that it stopped receiving. But then Reborn stopped and so did Tsuna who was helping Ryohei. They stopped because Chrome's phone rang for the first time. They were staring, and she picked it up, putting it on speaker. They couldn't tell who it was or what gender, but little did the group conceive that those 5 words could have saved their lives.

"_Nagi… I'm coming for you…!"_


	2. Screenshot

**Faceless**

**2: Screenshot**

Belphagor rose from the ashes and the flames and the coal that engulfed him, trying not to yell in pain as his fire bitten skin was scratched on the falling wood. It hurt so much he'd thought he might die, but no… a _prince_ doesn't die. A prince can't die. He wouldn't allow it! No _regal_ man can die at the hands of a single _peasant_!

Yes, he could remember him quite clearly. That damned filth that attacked the Varia. Somehow, the mongrel was able to escape. Worse still, he managed the damage, and possibly _kill_, quite the bunch of them. The Varia and the prince… whoever he was won't get away with it!

Bel seethed with anger as he brushed charred objects that dusted his clothes and hair. It fell off in a shower of black snow, only to disappear among the mud ridden ground. His expensive outfit was ruined. His leather jacket no long existed. His boots were the only things that weren't touched because they were made of steel, but other than that, he was ruined.

"Ushishishi… Someone's going to die soon…" he snarled to nothingness, salvaging his many wired knives from underneath his metallic sole. What prince would be stupid to go around unarmed? More like, what _Varia Royalty_ would be so dumb?

Bel cursed. As much as he wanted to rant his heart out to the thick, obsidian fogged sky, it wasn't the right time. He'll rant later. But soon his air would become short and the smoke would actually do damage, despite the flimsy cloth mask he got from his shirt. His poor, poor, princely shirt.

Oh yes, he'd pay.

He ran through the rubbish that used to be Varia HQ. This peasant was strong all right. His foot found a dead body and Bel looked down, only to see it was just one of the scum Mammon called waste of money and what Lussaria called a maid. Fran just called them all frilly idiots.

Speaking of which, where was his frog friend?

Not my problem, he convinced himself. That peasant Fran could take care of himself, regrettably. Sometimes he wished Fran really would die, but he'd tried killing the kid himself, and it was impossible. Infuriatingly impossible.

At last the prince broke free of the wreck. Never in his life had air tasted so sweet. Bel slowed to a clumsy jog, as his ankle was injured, and collapsed atop a hill. He had travelled a considerable distance by then, and could see the stars again, blinking like dying candles littered across space. There was a pillar of musty ugliness where he was not long before, and Bel gave off a spoiled look of disgust before flipping over on his back. He sighed in pleasure. The grass was dew-slick and ice cold, soothing his blaring burns and searing cuts. He flicked off one of his boots and polished it slightly so it was more like a mirror than a shoe. To his morbid horror, he saw in his princely reflection that his hair was singed black at the edges.

So. Dead.

It wasn't until relaxing there for a while, fantasizing about his torturing of that arson peasant that he noticed the long haired freak staring down at him, only a couple inches from his face with a look of irritation. Who dares to get irritated at the prince? Then it hit him. Ohhhh joy…

"VOOOOOIIII!"

Faceless

Chrome was walking home from school one day. It was strange, though… her hair was long and hung loose, no longer mimicking her beloved master's. Her eye felt less heavy and she felt she could see much better. The sky was beautiful and bright with the sun shining down, shedding a warm gold glow over the concrete sidewalk. She thought it was a truly perfect day. A day worthy of being a holiday. It never occurred to her why it was so peaceful, though.

While walking back, there was a thump from her right. Then voices.

"Boss, we caught her."

"Good, bring her in."

There was a series of shuffling and a hard bump followed by a rattling slap of metal against metal. An odd, nervous feeling rose in her chest, and she hid behind a corner. Chrome could see, though. She could see it all. For the people who were talking had walked into a somewhat large clearing of an alley, and were holding a hooded figure.

She narrowed her eyes. Who was this person? She should know everyone in Nanimori.

One man, significantly larger than the rest—and presumably the leader—pointed at a wall.

"Put the trash there," he spat venomously. His voice sent shivers down her spine in more ways than one. It was a …. Strange feeling. The two others did so, leaning the figure none too gently against the wall. In fact, it was more like a throw.

Next came a low moan.

The large one crossed his arms expectantly, and his lackeys moved toward the person again as if it had been a practiced drill and knew exactly what to do. They reached down with their hands… and pulled off the hood.

Chrome almost gasped. She didn't know why. She just did. Weirder still… she couldn't remember knowing this person, yet instinct told her to be worried.

It was a girl, her age, no less. She had strawberry blonde hair and a pretty yet delicate and somehow feral face, even as her eyes were closed as if sleeping. The hair was crimson on the edges, clearly dye, since she hadn't been touched yet. But what caught her eye was the single silver earring on top of her right ear lobe, and the bandage across her nose.

But Chrome could tell it wasn't broken.

Everything else happened in a blur. The girl's eyes fluttered open ever so slightly, yet drowsily. It reminded her of how she was when she woke in the morning for school. Like you want to sleep more, but can't.

"Time to show you what the world's really like, brat!" The big one cackled. It irked her. But the worst part… the worst thing was when the others jumped like hyenas. Those two boys dashed forward and the first kicked her in the stomach. That sure blasted her out of dream land, all right. The girl's pale framed eyes snapped open, revealing her sapphire colors. She arched her back and cried out, _real crimson_ erupting in a bright spray at the ground in front of her. Coincidentally, that _crimson_ also landed on the big guy's shoes.

He looked pissed off.

"Brat!" He yelled, and rose his huge, fat boot.

The boot went down.

Chrome's body acted on its own. Suddenly, she was in front of the girl, crouched in front of her like a human barrier, her back taking the hit solid and full. Chrome gave half a cough, half a scream, feeling pure agony spike up her spine.

Man it _hurt_.

There was a lot of talking, a lot of yelling, and a lot of moans. Bu tin the speed, half of it wasn't comprehended. All she knew was that now, they were beating on her.

_Why am I protecting this girl_? She thought._ I…I don't even know her…_

But thinking those words made something unsettling fly in her stomach. Was that true?

A hard punch came to her ears. Everything rang. Her violet eyes were closed. She was lying on the floor like dead meat, too weak to move, almost too weak to care. The last time she had felt so bad was when the link was temporarily cut with Mukuro. And that was terrible. It was then she was conscious that the beating had ceased, and of the hot liquid pouring out of her mouth.

Was she dead?

No… Chrome felt the steady and pained rise and fall of her chest. She felt the icy ground. Her eyes cracked open at a snail's pace after something warm and comforting touched her chest.

What she saw surprised her. It was that girl… the strawberry one. She was still bleeding, but not as much in the gut that she was over the knuckles. Apparently, that was the chord striking moment, because then Chrome felt aware of her surroundings at last.

The three boys were in a heap at the far corner looking worse than she felt. Somehow, it pleased her.

The girl helped up Chrome to a sitting position against a _cleaner_ wall.

"Are you alright?" She asked with genuine concern. Chrome tried to smile, but was sure it wasn't pretty.

"I'm okay… are… are you fine?"

The girl suddenly turned cheery and put her hand on Chrome's head, ruffling her hair gently.

"Come one, don't worry about me." She laughed. It was then it occurred to her how nice her laugh was, and how hyper and wild and… kind… her eyes seemed. "You got hurt because of me…"

She hesitated.

"You saved me, really."

Chrome looked at her with questioning eyes, so the girl continued.

"Those thugs drugged me with something… I… I'm not sure what it was, but hell it felt good at first. Well, that was probably 'cuz I was out like a bolt. Then I woke up here… felt the punch…"

The girl grinned like a cat and sat cross legged in front of her with a true grateful expression.

"Thought I might die, yeah. You took the beating for me before I could wake up…"

"…and you don't even know me," she finished in awe. "Thanks a lot."

Chrome smiled.

"Come to think of it, I haven't introduced myself yet," she said, sticking out her hand for a shake. Chrome did likewise. "My name's Ink. Ink Melody. And if you ever need help—if you're ever in a pinch, I'll find you. Not just because of this, but because…"

She stopped. "…How do I put this…"

"…It's because I feel like I know you more than I know myself."

Ink flashed a smile. "Take this," she said, holding out a black hair band. "It's something my mother gave me. I don't like black, so you can have it!"

When Chrome took it, Ink was talking again.

"Sooo…. What's your name?"

What Chrome said next shocked her most out of everything so far. Her lips… they moved on their own.

"Nagi."

Faceless

Chrome woke in a cold sweat. Her hands were clamming, pruned, and chilled to the bone. She was lying down half covered in blankets in a large white room with no decorations and too many doors. It almost felt like a prison.

Almost.

Kyoko was lying down next to her in another cot. She was sleeping soundly and was snuggled tightly onto Hana's stomach. Both looked peaceful despite the abnormal, undefined fear that pierced her chest. Haru was to Chrome's left and was in her own dream as well, except this time she wasn't sure if it was good or not because she was frowning quite deep.

All of them were in a new hideout. Now that the last one had been found out, it was only natural. The only thing unnatural was that Lambo said it first. On a normal situation she would have giggled thinking about it—half of her thought of him as that little boy from 10 years ago who always got into trouble. But back to the point, all the people who had ties with the Vongola in any way were transported to the hideout for safety… especially since the chains of attacks started up. It was mayhem—every 7 hours another HQ or Branch of Acquainted source would fall, and each one would have little survivors.

The bunk above her squeaked and shuffled, until a head dangled down with two black braids, staring down at Chrome with concern.

"You okay?" Asked I-Pin, sensing her unrest. I-Pin was one of the only escapees of the shootout in the town she was in. It was terrible, I-Pin described. 'Blood…everywhere. Death. Body parts were flying… I was so scared… but I fell more guilty about the fact I wasn't able to save anyone.'

I-Pin was in tears that time. She's not very old, Chrome reflected. Still a teen, just like Lambo. Still like me—only I'm older.

"I'm fine," she replied, incoherently trying to search through the remnants of her dream. She couldn't remember anything now. Only that it was… no, even that is fading. And it confused her. It _scared_ her.

"I can tell you're lying," I-Pin replied, puffing out her cheeks. Chrome rewarded her observation with a small smile. It's no wonder, though—she was frequently with the younger girl ever since the beginning. They were almost like sisters, like how she and Lambo were like siblings as well. Chrome couldn't count how many hours she burned babysitting them.

"Yeah, your right," Chrome murmured, looking away slightly and distantly. "But I don't know what's wrong. It's weird."

"It's all right," I-Pin declared, this time hanging off the bunk completely with her legs hooked over the cushion. She swung and gave Chrome an upside down hug that made her tumble backwards and narrowly miss elbowing Haru in the ribcage. She covered her mouth with both hands to prevent laughing, but I-pin on the other hand couldn't keep it in, and had a fit. Unfortunately for her, she forgot she was dangling at a dangerous angle and fell off, dropping on the edge of Chrome's cot then bouncing right next to Kyoko. Hana apparently woke up and gave I-Pin the death glare, who gulped and inched back up her bunk.

"Off to sleep I guess…" whispered I-Pin nervously, apparently slightly unnerved by Hana. Who could blame her?

But apparently, they won't be getting sleep any time soon. An alarm rang so loud Chrome felt her ears would bleed and jumped from under her covers. I-Pin fell off again, but this time her face was that of pure horror. Hana was up like a bolt. Kyoko was up just as fast, rivaled by Haru, only Haru was more skittish with eyes wide and frightful.

Bianchi and Lal Mirch, who ran out of the bathroom in the urgency, joined the others. Lal cursed. And Bianchi looked ready to fight.

All the girls heard Ryohei over the loudspeaker.

"Intruder at the left wing, advancing fast! Guardian's proceed to the Central HQ, Lal go and assist Bianchi. Men, begin lockdown procedure! Dino and Decimo, proceed to the EAS! Hibari, abandon station and go to the—crap! How the hell did—"

Ryohei Sasagawa was cut off into a pained yell. The loudspeaker was still on, but nothing came out but gritty noise.

Looks like they weren't getting sleep tonight.


	3. Man of Black and White

**_Thank you to deadly-chronicles, Crimefirex, and for the reviews. I'm actually surprised I got that much for the first 2 chapters, since usually I don't get any at all xD Well, this is my first try at a Reborn FF, but I hope I'll stick to it! I've got a nasty habit of ditching my writing xP. _**

**_Well, I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Obviously._**

**_Sorry for the shortness!_**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Faceless<span>**

**3: Man of Black and White**

In the broadcast room, Ryohei Sasagawa was on the floor bleeding. His eyes were closed and his face was frozen between a grimace and a yell; not a happy expression. Where the man's hair should be white, it was pink instead…some parts darker than others. There was a box in one hand and a a ribbon in the other. The ribbon, once clear, had concealed a ring with a sun on it, warm and bright. But now the illumination was dull. Dead. Gone.

Ryohei's life was hanging on by the thinnest of threads. If little more befell him, that thread would be sliced. A dark shadow slid over his still body as if deciding whether or not to finish him off, but chose neither of those options. Instead, the thin figure bent down and his finger's lingered over the young man's wound. There was a glimmer of something silver and shiny, but that glimmer disappeared as soon as it had come. Like it had never been there.

And then the figure was also gone. The only sign of his presence was Ryohei, whose lips unnervingly and unknowingly mouthed a single, silent word.

Faceless

Yamamoto Takeshi was standing outside of his room when the announcement ended. His eyes flew wide. Oh crap, crap, crap! This is no fluke. This is no error. Why did he feel like this would have inevitably happened sooner or later? Have the peaceful days come crashing to a halt already?

"Damn it, Ryohei," he hissed, uncharacteristic in his nature. "What's happened to you?"

He broke into a jog, racing to the broadcast room. Then a run, then a sprint. Then a desperate bolt. Why couldn't they have known sooner? Why wasn't he able to protect this place? Why was Yamamoto unable to sense something was wrong before this all happened?

Why?

Was he too weak?

Yamamoto had not the time to decide that for himself. A dark blur came to a skittish halt in front of him, and he almost tripped over himself trying to stop. The two stood at arm's length before the swordsmen drew his blade and hastily dashed backwards, trying to cover some distance.

"Intruder!" He demanded. "Why are you here?"

"What's your goal!"

"What have you done with my comrade?"

The shadow was indeed the intruder, and indeed the enemy. He was dressed completely in a suit sticked entirely of jet colored material, mimicking that of their funeral outfits… only darker. The sleeves, too, were unnaturally long. So long, in fact, that the ends touched the ground. But Yamamoto was able to see that half way down the sleeve were the hands, which glimmered in an odd fashion.

"Hmph. I can't answer so many questions at once, mafia scum!" The man spat sarcastically. Yes, it was definitely a male's voice.

That only made him angrier. "Shut up, shut up! This isn't what anyone wanted! This isn't what the mafia wanted! This isn't what the Vongola want!"

Yamamoto was desperate. "This isn't what _I _want"

"This isn't what the Vongola had planned!" He continued. "This was meant to be a peaceful era… it had lasted for a decade now… the 10th wants nothing more than to quit all this fighting…so why is war coming up again!"

Something hard ignited in the man's golden eyes. "You speak of peace? You want nonviolence? All this trouble was thrust on by no one but you! No one but the mafia! Vongola…"

The voice grew steely, cold, and sharper than a knife. "Vongola especially."

"What are you talking about? No one here is scheming. The Vongola were attacked, not the other way around!"

The man appeared inches from Yamamoto's face. Something long and cool was inside his stomach.

Blood came out, then. He stared stunned at the intruder before bringing one hand to his wounded abdomen, feeling the wetness, the hot flesh, the dripping, the oozing. He was losing consciousness. But even so close… so close to the person who defeated he and the sun guardian with so little effort, he could not even see the person's face clearly.

"Quit screaming nonsense. The mafia… the _Vongola_… they started it all." The man's voice was filled with so much venom, Yamamoto began to wonder what the hell this person had witnessed which produced such hate. _"Do you really know the people you're working for?"_

The objects that heavily resembled that of needles pulled out of his body. He felt himself falling…fading… losing. At the last moment as the intruder had turned around and began to walk away, he used the last ounce of energy to grab his hood. But before Yamamoto's presence burned away completely, he realized that he hadn't even seen the intruder come so close.

What was the Vongola up against?

Faceless

Tsuna couldn't take it. He couldn't take sitting by and doing nothing while his men were beaten and possibly… killed. The very thought made him want to turn around, tell Dino to go on his own, and run back to the crime scene. His guardians and everyone were special to him. They were his life. Yet Reborn was forcing him to stay behind them and run off while they suffer. His excuse was, 'If you die, the family will fall apart'.

But if he was the only one who lives, what family will there be to lead? To serve? To protect?

Reborn sensed his troubles.

"What do you plan on doing?" He asked.

Tsuna glared at his mentor and advisor. "I want to go back and help them. Why, why can't I do that? What's wrong with aiding those I care about? My guardians… my friends! Haru… Kyoko… Hana and my mother… who can protect them?"

"You're a fool, Tsuna. Trust your people. Rely on them. If you don't trust them, who can?"

"They're your guardians and your famiglia. They were built for this."

"Bianchi and Chrome and Lal were with the girls. They're fine."

"… And say you _do_ go out there. What good is that? Do you know how much that would hurt your friends instead? If you went out, they would think it would be because you can't rely on them to do what needs to be done. How would you feel if the person you put your life on the line for you thought you were useless? Have faith."

Tsuna sighed. Of course Reborn is right. He's always right. When has he _not_ lost to his mentor?

Right when he was beginning to feel better, he felt Yamamoto's flame blink out, just like Ryohei's did.

Faceless

Gokudera had released his box weapon and went full power. For once, Uri wasn't picking on him, which spiked the urgency of the situation. Unlike Lambo, who made his way to the central HQ, he defied orders and went instantly to where the 10th was evacuating. No way, no way in hell would he ever leave his boss along like that when his life was in danger. He already felt baseball freak lose and turf head, too. This opponent was powerful.

Beyond powerful.

He would have felt it if they went into full power, or realeased their weapons at all. They were connected—the guardians, that is. But none of them fought back. Was it that they didn't want to?

Or… was it that they _couldn't_.?

"10th… wait for me!"

Faceless

Chrome was running. She was running so fast and so hard she felt for the first time that her legs might fall off. She was at the opposite side of the base that boss was at the time, but was determined to get to him. Her stomach felt like it would flip for some reason, like she was nervous and scared and worried and…happy.

She didn't know. She was confused. Confused, and mixed up. That dream troubled her like none ever had before, which completely screwed with her perception.

But after Chrome heard the explosion, she knew she had to hurry. It was in the same direction as boss.

"Gokudera," she muttered, recognizing the sound of his dynamite. "What's going on over there?"

Faceless

I-pin thought she felt someone watching her. Chrome had left several minutes ago saying she had to find boss. Seeing the determined look her eyes held, I-pin did not object. That was a look she hadn't seen since Mukuro died. She along with Haru, Kyoko and Hana were being brought to a safe room led by Lal Mirch and Bianchi, both of which who were alert like wild cats, eyes scanning every crack, ears picking every noise.

Did they not feel the ire she had?

Faceless

Tsuna was in the middle of arguing with Reborn when the wall next to them exploded in a gust of dust and cement. In the center of the cloud was Gokudera, completely armed, panting. His hands were ready with explosives, completely aware of his boss behind him. He would protect Tsuna no matter what.

If it was at the cost of his life, he would be willing to die a million times and endure the pain.

"Die, intruder!" He yelled, throwing the sticks and dashing to the side, flinging flash grenades at the same time, then placing himself in front of Tsuna as if acting as a barrier.

"Go, 10th! Go now! I won't let him hurt you. I won't let him touch you!"

"No!" He replied just as loud. Tsuna couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't. "I refuse to leave! I refuse to let you risk your life for me!"

"Tsuna!" Reborn snapped, gritting his teeth. That brat has grown a pair all right.

"Tsuna, you don't know what you're saying! Your companions are trying to make an opening. Are you going to let that go to waste?" Demanded Dino, reaching in his back and fumbling for something.

"I'm willing to fight in their place. It's not fair if everyone gets hurt but I don't lift a finger!"

"10th!" Gokudera pleaded, the smoke clearing. The black and white intruder was untouched, and looked upon the group with pure detest. "Go. I'll be fine. Just go, and don't come back! Not now!"

The figure disappeared.

"Time's up," he said.

Faceless

Chrome heard yet another big boom. Only this time, she was much closer, and saw as the wall gave way. Then Boss came into vision. Then Dino. Reborn. Gokudera.

They wre arguing. What about, she couldn't hear.

Chrome kept on running. She was almost… almost… so close that if she were to dive, she'd touch them. But it wasn't on time… she wasn't on time.

A person who looked like a an old photo appeared behind them. His hood was missing, but it was still hard to tell his facial features… only that his skin was pale, his hair was black, and the only color was in the guy's lupine golden eyes. Chrome could see the long, long, bloodstained needles held in each hand, 8 in all, each one held between the fingers.

No.

No.

No.

She wouldn't let it happen. Not again. Not anymore. She already lost Mukuro. But this feeling…

…the same person. The same one as the shadow that passed her in the cemetery, and somewhat alike to the presence that killed Mukuro, but not the same.

So she wouldn't let it happen.

With all the strength she could muster, Chrome pumped her mist flame into her feet and launched herself in front of the man, and in front of the backs of her unknowing comrades.

The needles pierced her chest. Red blossomed into her shirt, splattering onto the ground and walls.

For a split second, time froze. The man's face was strange… like he was shocked. And right before he turned tail and fled for a reason Chrome did not know, his eyes turned bright blue… like sapphires.

Chrome Dokuro fell.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Wow, that took longer than I thought. Hope you like it! I got lazy and didn't have time to spell check x.x Haha, I don't know exactly where I got the name Ink Melody, but for some reason it just popped. Her true person is yet to be revealed, however. We'll have a click inside the mind of our assailant next chapter and peek inside the life of Chrome when she was Nagi in the next chapter, 'Worst Twelve Seconds'. Till then, I need to work on my Hw….<em>**


	4. Worst 12 Seconds

_Uuugh. This is probably the worst chapter I've ever written. I hate it. Well, sorry it's so short xP. Thank you to Imeiije, the only reviewer. Sad face. Oh well. Here's a cookie, Imeiije! _

_I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn._

* * *

><p><strong>Faceless<strong>

**4: Worst Twelve Seconds**

The Black and white man fled. He ran like all of hell was chasing after him, like he was going to die any second. His eyes must be playing tricks on him, he concluded. Sweat poured down his stark white face as he began to gag, his stomach flipping over twice before doing a barrel roll.

The man, now far away from the Vongola hide out, abruptly fell to his knees. One sleeve-covered hand was clamped over his mouth, but that was not enough. He keeled over a tree and hurled out whatever had been eaten the day before, and collapsed on the branch panting. All the energy had been drained from his bones all at once, all at once. There was no longer the strength to even lift a finger—all that power, that insane power from before, gone.

For now.

A bird nearby looked at him melt into a weak, small figure, looking straight into the pained person's eyes. They weren't sapphire blue nor golden yellow anymore, but a swimming combination of both. They flickered back and forth from color to color, as if one was straining to dominate over the other. A battle of the irrelevant.

"Hoo, hoo…" the bird called. It was an owl, pure white with shadow dappled feathers. "Hoo, hoo!" It said again.

The person covered his face with both hands and leaned against the huge, rough trunk. When the hands fell, the face was completely different, and the eyes… no longer there. Instead, both were covered with yellowing bandages that 'magically appeared'. Of course, there isn't a such thing as magic.

"What is it, owl?" He asked rhetorically, still recovering. He wasn't a man anymore but looked like a young boy, as his meek voice had hinted. The hair was bright blonde and fell down to the waist in a ponytail, much unlike the previous do.

The boy was surprised when the owl answered back. "Hoo, hoo…" It cracked its neck. "Hoo…who…are you?"

His eyes flashed. What… what was that?

The owl took off with one, two, three mighty flaps, and disappeared into the moon. If the boy was not so confused about how it spoke, he would have noticed the unnaturally shaped pupil… shaped like a _one_.

But he did not notice, and drifted off into a sleep that pulled at him like none other.

* * *

><p>Faceless<p>

Nothing was going right. Sure, Reborn had predicted that battle would follow soon after the 9th's death, but he had never predicted it would be so soon. So fast. And they… they were unprepared. The opponent knew everything…and for some reason he felt like that man could have wiped them out at any moment. But he didn't.

Why?

Reborn shrugged off the idea, but he was not able to shrug off how familiar the voice and how familiar the presence of the person had sounded.

However, he had more important matters to attend to. No-good Tsuna was letting the cons get the best of him—not that there were any pros to the situation. He would not get over the fact that he could do nothing to protect his guardians… his people… his friends. Reborn understood. But that didn't mean he couldn't work harder to make things right.

He tried to tell him, but Tsuna was still in low spirits. _Lame for a boss_, he thought. _But you still have an opportunity_.

* * *

><p>Faceless<p>

Revenge. That was all he could think about. Revenge for _Ryohei_, who was in a wheelchair because his legs were dysfunctional. Revenge for _Yamamoto_, who had to get a blood transfer. And revenge for _Chrome_.

Chrome who probably saved his life. Chrome who _did_ save his life. Chrome, who was stuck in a coma.

Her heart rate was fluctuating. Her breathing was without pattern—hard and fast one moment, soft and almost invisible the next. Half the time she was close to dying. The rest… stable. Hibari came back covered in blood… said that there were more people underground trying to lead an assault. Now he was missing a couple fingers, but his mountain high pride disallowed him to get direct treatment.

The skylark had passed by Chrome's room and looked inside after that. It confused Tsuna, but he said nothing, for an action even as small as that was hugely abnormal for his cold friend.

But what confused Tsuna the most was Chrome's injury. Not he nor Reborn knew exactly what went wrong that caused her to fall into the state she was in now. The wound really wasn't big—it was only strange. Very strange, actually. Judging from the way the needle-like weapons had entered, the washout man would have originally killed her, piercing right through the heart and out through the back. But right after the needles entered, the man had purposely twisted his wrist so that the weapon narrowly missed her vitals. It was nothing major and nothing compared to the other internal damages she once had to endure.

Which was why everyone was lost for the reason of her emending sleep.

Tsuna stood over her pale body, studying her features. The eye patch was removed to reveal Chrome's empty socket, black and intimidating even though the appearance was harmless. It was then he felt bad for everything she had lost before even meeting the mafia compared to him. And it was then he noticed that the eye patch was lightly clutched between her fingers like a lifeline. His eyes were just able to pick up the faint indigo glow of the eye patch strap …the strap which should have been black.

* * *

><p>Faceless<p>

Chrome opened her eyes. Immediately, memories began rushing back at breakneck speed. Her hands reached down to where her body remembered the wound was, but to her absent minded relief and shock, nothing was there. No pain. No scar. No indent, and no scab. It was like there never was a thing wrong.

A light wind ruffled her violet hair and she noted it was much lighter, as if nothing was holding it up nor down anymore. The gust tickled her eyes forcing her to narrow them just a little bit…and a small smile forced a way through her lips.

Wait… wind…? Why would there be wind in…?

Chrome to reality and stumbled backwards, looking around. Where was she? This was obviously not anywhere in the hideout… or anywhere in Nanimori. The grass was long and pricked her bare legs that stretched from a white hospital robe, bending with the breeze. There were small ponds of water glistening images of a clear blue sky and even clearer meadows. Somehow, it was vaguely familiar. Even the air… it… it smelled like… violets.

_This is the place where I first met Mukuro-Sama!_ She thought, horrified and hopeful at the same time. Thoughts flashed through her mind. Will I meet him again? Or… or am I dying? Am I dead?

"My dear Nagi, you will never die on my watch," said a voice.

It's… that's impossible… but it's… "Mukuro-Sama?"

She turned on her heel and stared right into the multicolored eyes of her former master. Her savior. The man she had devoted her life for. Chrome was oblivious to the tears that blurred her vision.

"You… how can you… I thought you were dead!" She choked, frowning heavily.

Mukuro stopped smiling. "Aren't you glad to see me, dear Nagi?"

He was within arms-reach. So close, so close she could smell his sweet, comforting smell. So close… so close she could…

"Of course I'm glad!" She yelled, hugging his waist and burying herself into his shirt, blushing and crying at the same time. "You… I thought I'd never see you again… you don't know how… how glad I am that you're here!"

Mukuro gave a gently touch and let his hand rest on her shoulder. He didn't know how to word what he would say next, but shot for it.

"Nagi…" he murmured into her ear. "I'm sorry… but I can't stay in this world for long."

"…This… This world?" She repeated. "What are you talking about? This is _your_ world!"

He laughed slightly. "I'm afraid not. I didn't create this place, someone else did."

"Someone else?"

"Yes, Nagi dear… and it's about time you meet her…"

"Her?"

"My sister," he confirmed. "It's a long bond between us, even though we are not blood related, we are by spirit. There is much about me you don't know, so I'll tell you a bit of it now."

"My name," he continued, "Is not Mukuro."

Chrome peered at him skeptically, urging him to continue.

"I don't have a name. When I was born, I was called the Nameless…"

"And my sister… she was called the Faceless."

"We were born from a husk of a husk of one who never lived—two people bound together from a different set of genes. There were four of us, actually, but the first 2 died. And they… they were Ken and Chikusa."

"How is that possible?" Chrome interrupted. The whole story was leaving her full of questions she wanted to ask, but she didn't want to bombard him. "Ken and Chikusa are alive. They were back then when I met them, and they still are now…"

"In the lab the day my sister—the Faceless—and I escaped, we revived them using a technology the scientists had," Mukuro responded. "You may not believe me, but…"

"I'd believe anything you'd ever say."

"Thank you," he smiled.

Chrome looked away and asked one more question. "Why were you called the Nameless?"

"That's a hard one," he replied, scratching the back of his head, "since I myself don't quite know, dear Nagi. I think it probably has to do with the fact that I had that variant of illusionary power. But I do have a name now—Rokudo Mukuro. My sister gave me that name, and I gave her a face to remember."

"While I was born not knowing what my name was and how my personality was, she was born not knowing her real face."

"But isn't that—"

Chrome never had time to finish. In a split second, the world exploded around them, and everything erupted in flames. Mukuro reached out his hand to garb hers…. But by a hair's length, their finger's grazed, and missed. The very sky and earth crumbled like a broken mirror, and he lost sight of her.

* * *

><p>Faceless<p>

It was 10 O' clock when Nagi snuck out of the house right under her parent's noses, desperate to get away from the screams of her mother and father. It hurt her ears so much that it would sometimes feel like they'd bleed, but she could never cover them, because it never worked. But Nagi had, at last, had enough. She couldn't take it. Not anymore. Her legs took her to a small spot behind the community garden where rarely any cars passed.

That was where she always went when she wanted to be alone, mainly because no one was ever there. And if anyone did pass and she happened to know them, they'd just walk away.

"_Look it's that girl,"_ they'd say.

"_It's that freak."_

"_It's that ghost person."_

"_Hey have you heard the rumors"_

"_Isn't she haunted?"_

"_Isn't she creepy?"_

No one likes her. They'd talk about Nagi like she couldn't hear them but she did. They'd talk about her right next to her as if she wouldn't care. But she did. She pretended It didn't _hurt_, but it _did_ hurt. It was _painful_. But she was Nagi, and she was that _ghost person_ and that _freak_, so she never showed anything.

Because sometimes, it hurt less to keep everything hidden away.

But Nagi remembered Ink. She remembered the girl she met last week in the alley, and she remembered the kind words and the lack of hatred. She was used to it; used to being looked down on and treated like someone who didn't exist. Treated like a myth. But Ink taught her how nice it was to have a friend. Every day after that Nagi would hope for Ink to appear again, but she never did. _She never did._

She wore the hairtie every day. It was the only thing she had left of that friend who she never saw again. But that friend saw her.

As Nagi sat on the curb behind the garden looking down at her feet, she heard a rustle. Suddenly, her neck was grabbed and she was pinned forward and onto the street with her arms twisted behind her in an agonizing angle. Rock scraped her chin. The one holding her down was a man that looked in his mid-20's with blood red eyes that looked like they might have belonged to a feline and had black hair that reached his shoulders, ending in jagged edges. Then he saw her hair tie.

"You," he hissed. "Think very carefully about how you're going to answer my questions."

Nagi said nothing but instead stared into the sky, trying to avoid his dagger stare.

"Answer me!"

He dug her chin deeper into the ground until she cried out from the pressure and the cuts. "Okay!" she stuttered, biting the tip of her tongue in the process.

"Good, now you get it," he smirked.

"Now… have you heard of a person named Ink?"

Nagi froze. Her eyes widened, but she did not answer.

"Have you?" He demanded, slamming her down again. "Spit it out! Where is she?"

She could feel blood slickening her face, trickling down the right side in particular. Her vision was distorted like the world was swirling, even though it wasn't.

"Answer me!"

She got her bearing and said one thing.

"No."

The man turned tomato red and shifted his pressure so far she felt her head might burst. He was leaning on it and driving a knife through some part of her face at the same time.

The pain was amazing.

But She refused to give in. If she did, what would happen to Ink? That one moment of happiness she gave her made up for all the years of neglect and suffering from her parents. Now Nagi felt happy, happy that there was someone who knew she existed and wasn't some monster. And now she'd be content with dying happy.

"Useless runt," the man spat. Then there were lights. Headlights. She felt rather than heard a car coming her way… down the street that should have been deserted. And she was right in the path. The last thing Nagi saw before it hit was a black cat with blood red eyes. That man.

* * *

><p>Faceless<p>

Ink felt danger. That hairband she gave Nagi the week before alerted her of a distinct danger, and like promised, she was coming to help. The thought of losing her somehow terrified the strawberry girl in a way she couldn't describe, but by the time she got there, it was too late. It was only 12 seconds between when she saw the car racing down and when it hit the violet haired girl. Only 12 seconds, and that street turned scarlet and wet. Only 12 seconds, and a red eyed cat.

* * *

><p><em>Man, I definitely need to take my time more. I feel like I'm just typing and not thinking! Also, in case it's confusing, the last 2 sections after Chrome meets Mukuro again are dreams of the past. I decided to twist it up a bit. We'll see Bel's side of the story in the next chapter titled 'Connections'. And wow it looks A LOT better with those line thingies I added for the sections...hn...<em>


	5. Connections

_Happy Late Lunar New Year! Been busy celebrating, but now I'm writing again now that school had finished for the day. Thanks for the reviews WeAreMadland, Crimefire, deadly-chronicles, and Imeiije! Thanks for the Advice Madland and Deadly—it made my day! Although I would very much like my coming chapters to be just as good as the previous ones, I feel like they won't be as good. Unlike other writers, I don't think ahead, but rather type in a spur of the moment type style, which is kinda bad. Because of exams and midterms I might sound a little rushed, too. But thanks for the support! And now in the line breaks, I'll have either D for Dream or FB for flashback._

_I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Enjoy!_

**Faceless**

**5: Connections**

For the first time in his life, Bel had felt a little less than princely—his muscles were sore, his Prince the Ripper title seemed more 'on him' than 'from him', and his hair was officially ruined. The smoke had cleared out in the past day but by no means was that a good thing, because now, in the miles wide open plain that had surrounded the Varia, he and Superbi Squalo were completely vulnerable. Considering that there wasn't anything but flat green with a lake now and again, Bel concluded that they wouldn't get cover any time soon.

Speaking of lakes, he kneeled over one now, examining his poor blackened locks like they had signaled the end of his life.

"Damn it," he mourned, suddenly not smiling his signature grin anymore. "The Prince cannot have such filthy hair!"

A hard boot planted itself on his back, sending him tumbling into the water, shattering the reflection and replacing it with a blast of water. When he resurfaced, his face was feral. Squalo, who towered over the Varia member, looked just as nasty. What else can you expect from the most vicious mafia branch?

"VOOOI! Can't you shut up already?" He shouted, his fingers lingering over his blade, tempted to pull it on the snobby young man.

"How dare you tell a Prince to shut up, peasant!" The egocentric not-so-blonde one shot back.

"You've been complaining about your damn hair ever since we began walking!"

"Because it's ruined now, because of you!"

"Because of ME?" He seethed. Bel was getting his air back from the argument as the norm had begun to rise.

"Ushishishi… if it wasn't for you, the intruder wouldn't have gotten away. You're worse than a peasant—_you're a loud pig_!"

"VOOOI! Spoiled braaaat!"

In a second, Squalo launched at Bel who dodged while laughing, watching his comrade fall right in. But his victory was short lived, for a strong hand pulled him down, and soon both were wrestling underwater like little kids brawling for a stolen toy, Bel being the thief. Nine times out of ten, Squalo was the one raining down attacks with his blade like a lunatic, face cherry red, while the one in defense smirked while easily deflecting with minimum effort.

_It's so easy to get the better of you,_ he thought. _What a peasant. I mean, what a pig._

Bel sighed inwardly, smiling so big it was scary, and used momentum to swing around and kick the white haired commando even lower. He knew that Squalo could beat him without breaking a sweat although he didn't admit it—but then again, that only applied to a cool headed Squalo. Or close as it gets.

His kick never hit its mark. Suddenly he was dragged down as if some clear, strong hand was pulling him to the bottom of the lake and he couldn't fight back—he heard Squalo's gurgled yell above him followed by a hard thunk and a gag—only when darkness began to creep at his vision did he realize the numbing soreness right below the back of his skull.

_Oh crap…_

Faceless

Ink Melody with her strawberry blonde hair tied in a braid sat cross-legged on the top of a Nanimori electrical pole. Ravens flocked around her and perched on the wires that branched from her perch—one lighter, more purple raven nestled deep into the soft locks in her hair and sat there, cooing. Below them there was but an empty street. No car had passed there in little over ten years. No man had tread the gray concrete. There was one spot, however, that was much darker than the rest. The ravens were all looking at that spot with slight expectance and instigating depression. The one atop her head held the most human look, as if it's very heart was screaming sadness, mourning silently.

Between her fingers she was fidgeting with a black hair band. It was a hairband made in pairs—but she only had one. The other Ink gave to a very special person.

"It's the anniversary… isn't it?" She whispered. As if the bird understood, it closed its deep violet eyes and rested its obsidian beak over the girl's forehead. A guilt that she had bore for a decade bit into her again as she remembered the younger girl stumbling, falling, and shattering. Ink's mask broke into a million pieces along with her friend's, but that mask was slowly building up again, along with the pain. Only this time it was covered with glue and duct tape.

She had sworn after that day to never trust anyone like she had Nagi. Never get close. Never get a second friend. Ink had only been with Nagi for a very short period—but for some reason the fact that she had saved her rand loud. That, and the fact that she had the aura of someone to rely on. Several times she sat in vigil over her—she didn't know. But Ink saw what she wrote in her diary. About a person she admired. About her.

For once she felt happy. Better still, Nagi began to tie up her hair with a black hairband.

It looked great on her.

But when she died, something broke inside her. That was the very first time Ink had a friend. And now that friend was gone. Why? Because of her. She heard the conversation through the hairband. She heard what the 'cat' said. She heard.

And it was her fault.

The pain was unbearable. She couldn't take it.

If that was how it felt to lose a loved one, Ink simply wouldn't have any more loved ones. It was too much.

_Too much._

"Why? Why did you do it?" Ink murmured. Her lip was trembling. Her mask had cracked all over again. The tough shell… vanished. The fists she held high, knuckles split and bloody only several moments before fell to her sides. The ravens flocked her gently, their feathers tickling her light freckled skin.

"And what were you doing there?"

Ink didn't notice the hairband of hers glowing blue. One of the ravens used its beak to tug the cellphone out of her pocket and it opened. A message was playing. A message she sent, in voicemail, out of hope. It was only 5 words… but those 5 words, at the time, she meant.

Faceless

Slowly but surely, Belphagor peeled open his eyes. His vision was blurry… his memory was even worse. _What was he doing? Oh yeah… there was a fire… a…lake…?_ He closed his eyes again. _Tired… too tired… wait, wasn't Squalo here too? Wasn't there… wasn't there some sort of…_

Then it hit him. His eyes flew wide open although with his hair covering them no one could have noticed, and sat up so fast it hurt his back. A gutting pain shot up his chest and he coughed up blood, keeling over on hands and knees. One hand grabbed where his heart was, clawing it helplessly leaving large red scars.

He could taste it. The copper. The foul stink. He could feel the liquid pouring over his chin and down onto what used to be an icy, pure white kind of floor, splashing, spreading, flowing. He could see the red. He could glimpse the rosy reds that were flowering all over him. It was then that Bel realized that his expensive and burnt beautiful shirt was gone—there was nothing but tanned, toned skin and muscle now drenched in scarlet.

He continued to heave until there was nothing left to cough. His head felt light and swam with light that didn't eist, like there were bright flies swarming around him like pests that had to be exterminated. They were mere mirages, anyway.

"Crap," he seethed between incoherent hisses. Bel lay on his side sprawled over the ground, still clutching his chest. He felt like it would explode, and that would be the end. "The Prince can't end in such a peasant like way!" He roared, slamming the ground with his free arm. It cracked.

"Crap…."

A pair of dark steel boots clicked next to his ears. He looked up, naturally. And standing there was Commando Squalo, sword drawn, drenched in some sort of silvery, silky paint. His face was unusually hard, unusually cold, but what Bel immediately noticed what that his eyes were black. Black like nothing was there. Black like his eyes were gouged out but they weren't.

"Squalo," he snarled, gritting his teeth and trying to suppress the burning. "A little help here?"

Bel's vision was fading. All he could see was Squalo staring down at him. Everything else was the same color as the floors—the color of absolutely nothing.

He walked forward to where the prince lay crippled. _Finally_. The edges of his lips curled up in a twisted grin; only this time it wasn't twisted from his own agony, not someone else's.

"About time you decided to—"

A boot came down, landing hard and square into Bel's exposed stomach. It rose… then it was down again. And _again_. There was a squish and a sickening crunch… more copper and more roses. Something was splattering around him—he could hear it. He was also aware of screaming. Tons and tons of rugged, raw, throat tearing screams.

Squalo was expressionless when the blood began to cloak his shoe, and then his leg, and then his chest and then his pale face and hair. He was expressionless and didn't speak, even as what looked like a wet, flat, sliver of crimson soaked innards hit his cheek and stuck there.

Bel's sight began to die out. The crunching stopped, but this time Squalo raised his sword up in the air. It glistened as a drop of that silver slid down the sharp, pointed blade, landing several feet away. His expression was still eerily neutral, like a corpse's. Or a statue's, or a zombie's.

It then occurred to Bel that the screaming _was coming from him._

_How un-prince-like…_

…The sword landed.

Faceless

When Hibari led the investigation, he didn't know what to expect. He along with Gokudera Hayato made their way around the hideout examining anything that might have given them a lead—a broken branch, a footprint, a shell, heck, even a single strand of grass bent the wrong way. But there was nothing. The duo was a second from giving up until Hibari began to get the ire someone was watching them. He nudged Hibird—now a fairly large hawk-like hybrid avian—who flew onto Gokudera's shoulder. They both acted natural, examining every plant and rock, but Hibari knew he got the message. Gokudera scratched the golden bird under the wing and he took off again, but rather than going back to his master, disappeared into the forest.

He shot a glance to the skylark that said, "Is it the same guy?" and he shook his head so slightly no one else could have seen.

"But it feels the same," Hibari mouthed. The smoking bomb raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Continue walking, herbivore. And don't look back," he silently commanded once again. Gokudera complied after a split second of hesitation, and disappeared into the brush. He, too, moved out—but in a separate direction—pretending to be interested in a hole in the ground.

Then there was a rustle. It was so faint that any normal person could have never heard it, but Hibari Kyouya was a predator, and the world was his prey. Even a predator missing a couple fingers. But hey, does that really bother someone like him? The answer is no.

Hibari drew his tonfas, flinging them out of his sleeves, and dashed in a flash of black and blue toward a shadow behind a plant. The shadow turned to block, obviously startled, but a moment too late. He grabbed the opponent's arms and pushed him to the ground, wrestling the hands in an iron hold.

Apparently, it wasn't who he thought it was.

"I-Pin?" He hissed coldly. He had hoped it was an enemy. Well, more like, someone he could fight for once.

"Oh…" Was all the former apprentice said, staring at him with both guilt and apology.

He scowled. "I should bite you to death for this."

She flinched. After several seconds Hibari sighed and bared his teeth to thin air, letting her up and sliding away his tonfas that hungered for blood so badly.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded more than asked. Suddenly, Hibird came out of nowhere, and landed on I-pin's shoulder like he had done that for all his life.

I-Pin smiling and rubbed below his chin. Hibird clucked with content, his version of a purr.

"Tsu—I mean, 10th Gen told me that you and Gokudera were out here…" She trailed off, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

"And?" He pressed.

She took a deep breath, looking away. "I found something. Something bad or good I don't know yet, but—" I-Pin visibly cringed thinking about whatever she had seen. She felt sick all of a sudden. "Well, you should see it."

Sometime between then and there, Gokudera reappeared. It sounded like he knew the situation already. They looked at each other and the two young men nodded, following the teen. Hibari began to wonder what could have possibly made her so perturbed.

They arrived in a small clearing no bigger than a few meters in circumference. There was a blanket of ivory moss over a rock—that was where I-Pin stopped. Everything looked perfectly normal, so they began to wonder what was wrong.

Until she took one edge of the moss with her fingers… and pulled it off.

Gokudera stepped back and almost threw up. Judging from her behavior, she had already done that before. Hibari's stomach flipped, but he refused to gag.

On top of the rock there were three faces. Three human faces—all of them different, but all of them wearing the same expression—one of absolute morbid horror. From where he stood he could tell that they were once from real people—he could suddenly smell the scent of carrion although it wasn't coming from the faces themselves. He could see the real texture of the skin, and the wide eyes with true fear. He could see it all.

Gokudera gave in, and stumbled over to the nearest bush. I-Pin had turned around grabbing her side and looking at the rocks at her feet.

"One more thing," She murmured with a slight pale. "When I got here, there was—"

_Bang!_

I-Pin stopped mid-sentence, her words hanging in the air. Her face was one of surprise, fear, and pain that Hibari could never forget. For a moment the 14 year old girl seemed to balance and teeter back, before falling with a thud onto her stomach. Her back was torn through in a gaping scarlet hole, with a bullet beside it. On the bullet read one word:

Masayoshi.

_Sorry for the shortness! And for the long wait! Midterms are a PAAAIIIN…-sniff- Well, hope you enjoy! In the next chapter, Rock Solid, we'll see exactly what happened to the Varia and get some action back at I-Pin and the gang. _


	6. Rock Solid

_Super sorry for the… um… 5 month delay for chapter updating! ^.^ I'd love to make some smart ass excuse, like I was going through a tunnel for almost half a year so I couldn't get connection, but sadly you guys aren't that gullible, so I'll just tell the truth—I honestly just forgot about this story. Completely. Then I found it floating around my trash files, got re-addicted, and decided to update xD Sorry if it's bad, since I haven't written anything in such an extraneous amount of time, but… enjoy! Also, gargantuan thanks to those of you who reviewed and faved my piece, even though I dumped it for a while. __s to you guys!_

**Faceless**

**6: Rock Solid**

A heavily tanned red haired girl limped toward the room, following the low lit black candles that symbolized Lord Masayoshi's absolute power. There were straps covering her body that much resembled the ones that carried grenades—only hers were much thinner and were strung around her waist and shoulders in the dozens. They held vials of all sorts, some big, some small, some cylinders, others rectangular. A few were empty, others filled with liquid, and even less smoothed to the brim with herbs and powders. On a glance it would look like she was indeed equipped with hundreds, or even thousands of bombs, but a closer look would suggest not. At last she reached a large iron door engraved with lions. Each feline had eyes the color of the ocean and fur woven from gold. It was strange to her because they all looked so… elegant… as opposed to their back ground.

The door opened without a sound, and the candles flared, beckoning for her to enter. So she limped on, dragging her right leg as deadweight. Before her there was only one thing—a throne bedecked with gems and adorned with chains of silver and other luxury treasures. Sitting atop it with a tyrant like pose was a figure cloaked in black and skin that looked made of paper. But that frail outlook did nothing to ease the vicious, dagger like stare produced from his stormy coal eyes that met the girl's own green ones. Immediately she kneeled and looked down. Odd valves stuck to her thin wrists disappeared up her arms as if bowing along with her… perhaps they were.

"Have our honored guests arrived yet?" The person asked in a sickly sweet voice.

The girl responded with utmost respect, not lifting her head, or even shifting in the slightest. "Yes, my Savior. Most of them are here in the laboratory, Savior."

A pause.

"Most of them?" He echoed, venom flowing over his tongue. "What do you mean… _most of them?"_

She bit her tongue, realizing her mistake a second too late. Her sharp canines drew blood, but she didn't notice it. "Yes…yes, my Savior," the girl stuttered. "All of them are here, Savior. Except for one of them."

She could feel his gaze burning holes in her head and held her breath.

"…I can guess it's their precious leader who's missing?" The person hissed at last, losing all pleasantries from before. The temperature dropped amazingly.

"Yes, Savior," she confirmed. Then, "But I can fix it, I can contact Kuro and the rest and—"

"Flax," he snapped. She stopped. "_They_ will do _their_ job, you will do yours."

"My apologies, Savior."

"Now do what needs to be done, and don't come back here until that task has been fulfilled."

In front of Flax, there was a loud thump. Without meeting the figure's eyes, she rose slowly and took the bag, backing out of her master's domain without turning around as to not disrespect him. Then the doors closed, and she made her way to the laboratory.

Faceless

Bel was furious. No, that was an understatement—Bel was royally pissed off. He was stuck in a jail cell that had to be smaller than a really tall fish tank that smelled strongly of dog shit, and had nothing on but dirty jeans that looked like the clothes for a peasant. His box weapon was missing and for some reason it was impossible to call up his flame—not that it would do much. His entire body was sore like an entire herd of buffalo stampeded over his guts, and the area over his heart was screaming pain… but for some reason, when Bel looked down to try and see what was wrong, his vision would fail.

Never in his life—except maybe when he was poisoned in the ring battle a decade ago—had he felt so…helpless. Bel couldn't even lift an arm without being assaulted with the sensation of flaming flesh and the greeting of nausea to the stomach.

Damn this… when the prince discovers the culprit… whoever he is would wish he was never born!

But for some reason, he had the feeling that getting out of this one may not be so easy. The cell he was barred in had some sort of thin blue membrane, but when he touched it it burned his skin. There were several other cells, both with similar shields, but he couldn't tell what was inside. The hair-in-the-face-thing didn't help much, either.

A door creaked open. Bel instantly perked up and tilted his head from where he lay to the noise, hoping it was an ally.

Wait, why the hell would an ally jail me?

And of course, it was no ally. Standing in front of his cell with a satchel of her shoulder was a girl obviously younger than he with long, smooth hair the hue of his rage. The second thing he realized was that her body was covered with belts. The third thing he noticed was that she smelled like honey.

What a freaky thing to notice.

Yet in the situation, he managed to maintain his emotions and slide back his sadistic, sneering grin.

"Ushishishi..,. and who might you be?" He spat, confident that the girl could do nothing to hurt him. She was, only, like, 16 or something! And he was an adult man. A creepy, cold hearted, murdering adult man. Yeah, the type that scares little kids.

She stared at him with surprise. What, did she think he couldn't see her?

"You're awake?" She asked stupidly to herself. Then something ran through her little female brain at last.

"You're awake! Shit, shit, shit!" The girl moaned, stepping back, obviously stressed out. "You shouldn't be awake! I'm dead, dead, dead, dead…."

She continued muttering inaudible babbles of worry and fear with him listening the whole time, almost amused. "Tch! Of course I'm awake, peasant! What did you expect from a marvelous prince like me! What, It's not like I was drugged. Pfft!"

She stopped freaking out and looked at him. "We did drug you," she replied in a matter-of-fact-like-fashion. "And are you a madman?"

Bel twitched. "Know your place, little peasant!"

She shrugged and moved to the other cells. He noticed that the girl had deactivated the membrane allowing him to see better—he still, however, lacked the strength to break out.

"Hey, where are you going!" He demanded, craving for someone to provoke.

"I'm still right here…madman."

"I'll kill you when I can," he hissed, only grinning wider. "You… should be afraid of me."

The mark on his chest began to burn… but it was a different feeling than before. It was…. Soothing. The pains were suddenly gone. Realizing this, Bel sat up and flexed his muscles in confusion, then in victory, then in arrogance. Yet again the prince attempted to glance at his chest, but was yet again rewarded only the blurring of his eyes.

This time the girl didn't respond. There was the distinct sound of typing, and he peered through his bars to see another membrane flicker out like a dead light bulb. And there, slumped in the cage with head lolled, was a white haired commando.

"Squalo?" He called. "That you, peasant commando?"

It was. Well, no shit it was.

"You bastard!" He roared, letting anger get the best of him. Prince the Ripper's hands immediately went to his shoes to grab the signature knives, only to find his feet were bare. Wait, seriously? Man, his day was getting better and better, wasn't it?

So instead he settled for grabbing the bars and yanking at them, never realizing that his strength had been restored along with the wounds. But still it wasn't enough.

"You little shit head! I'll beat you to a pulp for what you did before! No one gets away with laying hands on the Prince!" He yelled at Squalo, who was still unconscious. The girl in the meantime observed their one sided argument and moved onto the next cage and the next. But soon her patience grew short.

"You'll hope to be dead when I'm done," he hissed vehemently over to the other cell. "You'll hope that—"

"—Shut up!" The girl snapped, throwing her arms up, exasperated. "You're making my work longer than it already is!"

Bel's attention bolted from one to the other. Oh dear, how easily he was distracted. "Did you just tell the Prince to shut up?"

She deactivated another one, hearing a satisfying zip as it came down. "I did."

"Do you want to get my bad side?" He smiled.

She hesitated. "Just leave me alone. It's not like… you have much longer anyway." The girl finished with a slight hint of guilt. "Neither do your friends."

It was then he came to his senses. The cages she was tending to –all of them—were occupied by very familiar faces. Other than Squalo, there was Levi. Then there was Lussaria, half his face bruised and purple. He wanted to say, 'serves you right', but decided better of it. Now was not the time.

Mammon was leaning out cold against her corner. The curse-less Arcobaleno's face was no longer veiled by that tasteless hood, so he could see her face that was normally hidden from view. At her right was Fran, flat on his back, staring up at the stony ceiling with eyes that had no sight. The only one missing was Xanxus. All his comrades looked like corpses—definitely not a good top-it-off sign.

Bel stared at the girl suspiciously. "What are we doing here?" He asked, feigning nonchalance with obvious sarcasm in every note. "Were you the bitch that set Varia on fire?"

She looked sincerely offended. "No." The satchel she was carrying was open, then, and she was pulling out 6 blank, slightly rounded, full face masks. Six of them, one for each person.

Including him.

"No," she repeated. "It wasn't me. It was Faceless."

Faceless

There was a split second of deafening silence between the boys, Gokudera and Hibari, as if they couldn't comprehend the situation at hand. They heard the gunshot. They heard the terrible thud as their comrade fell. They just didn't believe it. When the two and two were finally pieced together, it was too late.

Bursting from the thick foliage, right from where the shot came from to hit its mark, came a person. At least, they thought it was a person. Holding two oversized pistols came a relatively tall man, dressed in loose black attire, with gloves going up to the shoulders. His muscles were hard and scary big, rippling even under the thin cloth, reminding Hibari of a true predator, a panther, or a jaguar. The menacing glare, the piercing blue eyes—all in the bag for traits of a killer. Even better? Blood stained blonde hair, gravity defying like his least favorite herbivore's.

The guy was a carnivore. Had the skylark been 'the type', it would've been love at first sight.

No preamble, no introduction, no sign that either had ever known anything else but combat—Hibari and the attacker collided in a flashing flurry, tonfas versus handgun. They move so fast, so stoically concentrated that the area around them appeared like a vacuum, slicing up the canopies around. Leaves fell like green snow.

Gokudera was far slower in reacting, looking first at I-Pin, then at the battling fighters, and back at I-Pin. He cursed something awful but very Gokudera-like, before dashing for I-Pin. He grabbed her, trying vainly to be both gently and quick, before racing through bushes and brambles. He had to get back to the base. Damn—why did the world hate him? It was such a long distance from the hideout. She was bleeding profusely, and his arm pressing onto the wound was not enough to cease nor slow the injury. Best case scenario? They'd get there soon, and all would be flowers.

Worst case scenario?

He'd rather not think about it.

The infiltrator and Hibari were in a lockdown, then. His cold, metal tonfas were linked between the other's steel weapons. Both were around the same shape and size, only Hibari had the disadvantage of being melee only. Both were pressing against each other with alarming strength, trying with less desperation and more pleasure to catch the other off guard. However, the attacker had a trick up his sleeve.

In one jarring, sideways movement, two twin bullets exploded from the nozzle of the gun. They were fast, but not nearly fast enough. They whizzed by, grazing the cloud's fine black hair, clipping only the tips.

"Not bad," Smirked Hibari, more or less quite glad to sharpen his senses. The sweet feeling of adrenaline was like a drug to him.

The intruder showed a similar half-grin, breaking the callously calm mood. "I can say the same, Vongola guardian." Now it seemed almost like a deadly spar between rivals, intense yes, but for the sheer joy of the moment. They exchanged blows subsequently, a series of quick and vital blurs mixed with grunts of pain and explosive shots. For a short while, both of them stepped back. Hibari had a clipped shoulder, bruised hands, then several small cuts followed by a growing sore on one hip. It looked painful. The other carried a garden of bruises and a shattered finger. Both were short of breath.

He couldn't remember the last time he was so evenly matched.

At that point, though, their fighting game stopped. The attacker, his guns still steaming, dashed away in a smudge of darkness.

Hibari followed. Why loose another fellow carnivore so quickly, when there was so much more potential for blood to be spilled?

Faceless

Gokudera ran through the forest like an obstacle course, jumping over roots and rocks, dodging trees, ducking branches. It was a race of the worst kind—with a life on the line. Worse still, it wasn't his own. He wasn't used to that. Protecting himself was one thing, but another person? Damn different, yeah. Even better? He wasn't the fastest guy in the world. That skylark or even baseball freak would've been better. They've got the speed. He's got the bang. Always been that way.

Which was why he was totally unprepared when the assassin from before showed up.

He came like a rocket, blinding fast just like before. Grasping I-Pin unstably in one arm and dynamite in the other, he tried to fend the guy off. Too late. There were explosions, his explosions, but they hit nothing. Soon there was a weight removed from him followed by a numbing sensation, and the smoke dispersed to reveal the intruder atop a tree, holding I-Pin. She was breathing heavily, blood dripping from the corner of her lips. The braid had gone undone, so she now had only a mass of tousled, sleek hair.

He pointed a gun at her head, all loaded, just as dangerous as before. Gokudera froze, then extinguished the explosives from his hands. Hibari on the chase stopped short, narrowing his eyes.

"Cowardly foolish move, carnivore," he growled.

The so called 'carnivore' didn't blink, but instead looked at both guardians with calm intelligence. "Cowardly, yes," he said. "That I admit. But foolish? No, not so much. I'm merely doing my duty, not neglecting it."

As they didn't respond, he continued. "She's still alive, as you can see. Not for long. She'll bleed her life out, this girl. If I pull the trigger, she'll live even shorter."

Just to prove a point, he pressed the tip at her temple teasingly. "Like me to demonstrate? You would be awful surprised how well my fine, fine guns can splatter brains. Quite deadly."

Gokudera tried playing the cold delinquent, feverishly looking for some way out. "You think we care what happens? This is the Vongola. We are mafia. A combat-dropout doesn't look good on our records."

He smiled. "Then why were you panicking before, if the life doesn't matter? Try me, I'll pull the trigger. I did it once already."

The storm guardian went silent. It was Hibari's turn this time. "What do you want here?"

"Bring me Nagi, the so-called connector, and I'll patch up this girl like nothing ever happened."

Before either could make a noise, there were footsteps. Small, soft, and delicate ones against the grassy forest floor. Graceful, even. They turned to see Chrome, trident in hand, all awake. She gave a bitter grin. "You want me? Sorry, but I don't go down without a good fight."

_Tada, another terrible chapter :3. Well, after 5 months of afk, I am loving all the Chrome stories that are now up. Apologies to Deadly-Chronicles (I still super love your stories, just clogged my day reading them all even though Angel of Death will always be on top) since I totally forgot about in general. Heads up for the next chapter, Fake Paradise… if it comes xD Laters._


	7. Fake Paradise

_**18Madison81: Thanks a lot! Haha, you could probably do better than me, though xD**_

_**InvisibleNeko: Arigatou for the review! To be honest, it may have been a permanent hiatus... you'd never believe how many stories went into the flames x:3 Also, Bel and Chrome will most definitely meet, worry not. Wait... did you say ICE-CREAM? Gimme some! 3**_

_**lady madland: Haha... ha... don't worry, I heard you... xDD Trust me, you've got no clue how lost I was trying to write the next chapter! I had to re-read everything to make sure it all made sense. I kept going back for a lot of it- I'm like, did this happen or not? I'll be sure to check out your story as soon as I get the chance! Which will probably be some time tomorrow I guess? School has got me rung dry x.x**_

_**BlackAngel'sWrath: Confusion hath be between thy reader to thy writer. Still trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to happen 5 months ago :3**_

_**Deadly-Chronicles: Reme. Is. BACK!**_

**Chapter 7: Fake Paradise **

Gokudera and Hibari watched in surprise as Chrome Dokuro, with a fierce look on her face, stepped into the dirty clearing. They were more than surprised, in fact, by more than one thing- wasn't she in a coma? Her state was near death. Hibari almost thought they might lose her. Evidently, though, that was not the case. She was up and in arms, looking more healthy than she had ever been. She was dressed pretty badly, though; there were bloody bandages still wrapped tight around her torso, bleeding slightly from the puncture wound. Her arms were bruised. On the contrary, her cheeks were bright and full, not pale and sunken in like before. The guardian's amethyst eyes possessed a bright spark he'd never seen before. Somehow, her eye patch also seemed more... up. It shone like crystal... Why, no one wondered.

But that look on her face? That expression, so unlike her usual show of innocence and shy wonder? Gone. It was the biggest surprise. Hibari gave his trademark smirk, impressed. Had this herbivore stepped up out of her shell? Perhaps she would be a better challenge, though for his reasons, he doubted that Chrome could outmatch the carnivore in front of them.

Especially with a hostage.

Hibari swallowed his words, then.

All three boys were staring at her-the intruder with a strange hunger, Gokudera with confusion, and he with pleasure. Then she was gone.

Just gone. No dirt cloud underneath her, kicked up from a step. No flicker. No nothing.

And then there was a hard, cold clang. The Storm and Cloud turned to see the intruder locked in a bind with three stone vipers, with Chrome behind him. She raised her trident, shiny and clean, hastily bringing it down. He shifted to the side, but couldn't dodge with the snakes squeezing the nerve out of his legs. Instead her strike slammed onto the man's muscular shoulder.

There was a satisfying pop, and a grunt of pain. Using his free hand, he shattered the snakes in response. Both moved away from each other, perching on two separate trees, acknowledging each other with angry stares. In that split second attack, Chrome had managed to snatch I-pin, where Gokudera decided to be of use, receiving the black haired girl once more.

"Who are you?" Chrome demanded, with an edge of calculated rage that much resembled her idol. "What do you want with me and my friends?"

The guy stopped, popping his dislocated shoulder back in place. That would sting for a while.

"They call me Skallon," he snickered, tapping one handgun idly against the bark of his tree. "What we want is not your friends. We want you. Why? You should know why."

Something akin to suspicion flashed through her. "If you want only me, then why did you attack the Vongola?"

He shrugged. "That's the way to get to you-Kill a couple, kill some more, kill someone beloved... and it's a sinker. All you Vongola brats are the same. I'm damn well sure that the decimo is, too."

"All of you are terrible," she scowled. "I get the feeling you're doing this for fun! Why do you need to kill to get what you want?"

"Don't be a pacifist. You are mafia; at least you are now. Mafia are about killing. And me? I'm mafia too. Death is the world, girly. get used to it." Skallon stopped tapping, and grinned a shark-like grin... the kind that sends shivers down the spines of others, and sends kids running. "As for why? I just do as I'm told."

Chrome wasted no time. She tossed her trident from the right to the left hand, then smashed it into the thick trunk of the deciduous tree she stood on. There was a sinking, sucking sound before it suddenly caved in on itself. The limbs fell, cascading into a waterfall of breaking wood and flimsy leaves. In a loud crash, all of the debris pressed together. It reminded her of how a junk presser compressed garbage, only this was a weapon. The whole lot of it defied the laws of nature, forming one big golem of trees. Its own weight made the thing creak and groan, crack and rustle, when it came alive through a burst of green dust.

The golem rushed forward, ramming into the tree Skallon was on. He jumped just as his perch exploded on the impact-the force was frightening. Gokudera, previously focused on stopping the profuse bleeding, looking up in awe. Just how strong was his teammate? She was no longer the meek little girl she used to be. She was... amazing. Shining.

She reminded him of someone he'd wanted to forget.

Skallon cackled lightly to himself, shooting downward at the behemoth Chrome almost effortlessly created. To his resentment, the illusionary beast parried the attacks with ease. In fact, it was more like it was shrugging the energy off, causing it to disperse harmlessly. He cursed and dashed down to attack close quarters, connecting the butt of both his weapons to the golem's thick body. First a crack appeared, like a cob web around brittle wood-then a significant chunk of its arm fell to the grassy floor.

He smiled.

Hard to penetrate, yes.

Annoying, yes.

Unbeatable, no.

Just like cockroaches-hard to kill, but it could be done. He will win. He will win because the Savior requested it. He will win because the life of his true love depended on it. He will win because she had to die, because everything was her fault.

Chrome came from behind again, slashing downward in a single bright arc. He met her blow with the tip of his pistol, deflecting it. There was an opening, and he took it- in one swift movement, the partnering weapon jut firmly into her stomach. Her eyes flew wide with pain that invaded the anger, and she let out an agonized, bloody cough before slamming into the ground. Her opponent's victory was short lived; the golem threw itself onto him, creating a mass of flying woodchips and the crunching sound of bone. He turned the moment he hit the ground, shooting four consecutive bullets right into his assaulter's face. There was one final crack, and the hard brown skull broke, causing all the parts to fall lifeless.

She struggled to her feet, using the trident as a kind of walking stick. Her other hand gripped her sore stomach feebly-he had stricken the wound the black and white man made, making it even more painful. A thin line of scarlet threaded from her lip, staining the already tainted bandages that ended at her neck. Already fatigue set in...but Chrome's efforts were not entirely fruitless.

Skallon was in just as bad a shape as her. She succeeded in wounding him significantly... there was now an ugly zigzag of torn and raw flesh, on bit of it hiding the pearl of a bone. His left shoulder, the same one she attacked before, seemed in terrible shape. It looked like the skin was peeled of, and twisted at and impossible angle.

She was triumphant, on that note. Who knew she was capable of so much devastating power? His shark grin was gone now, instead replaced with a look of menace and scorn. His wild blonde hair was even wilder now, too feral, even. A slick blotch of blood ran down one half of his face, and over one of his icy frost eyes. They glared daggers; so much hate and anger and determination all aimed at her. Why?

Gokudera and Hibari saw the whole thing. The illusion was powerful... staggering and intense... it drew both boys in easily. They had developed a newfound respect for her, now. Gokudera had succeeded in applying his surprisingly advanced medical knowledge upon I-Pin's wound... the poor girl was ghastly pale now, yet miraculously, her breathing was normal and rhythmic. Unless something happened, she'd live through it. Chrome remembered that she had been the reason she got so hyped up... fighting for her friends made her more powerful. She knew that applied to all the guardians as well; powerful Tsuna, extreme Ryohei, the bright Yamamoto and light-hearted Lambo. Even the angry Storm and the aloof Cloud fought for those they cared deeply for.

That's why they were guardians.

That's why they were Vongola.

That's why they were Mafia.

They weren't bad.

Not killers.

Not them...

Not them.

But her opponent, Skallon, why did he bear so much hate for her? Chrome didn't understand one bit of it. If she knew anything, it was that all hate had reason. What were his reasons for cursing her, when she'd never even seen him before? It had to be something. Whilst Hibari readied his tonfas and Chrome groaned, raising her weapon once more, he struggled painfully to his feet. The wounds he carried were bigger than hers, but he pushed himself until the hunk of meat that was his arm looked ready to fall off. Chrome recalled that she had awoken her coma after parting with Mukuro. She recalled waking to a loud gunshot, then following her instincts. Then she saw I-Pin, her friend and un-related sister, at tatters near death. Her heart was consumed with blinding rage, contained just barely, to destroy this determined man. Now, though, her rage was gone. No one deserved to die.

She wasn't being a pacifist, like what the man suggested.

It was just that she, Nagi, knew what it was like to die inside, and die in the minds of others.

It hurt.

-Faceless-

Bel leaned against his little cage, genuinely bored. Using a tiny scrap of metal he found some time ago, he knocked it rhythmically against the floor. Tap, tap, tap... over and over. The beautiful but burnt blonde hair sloppy fixed over his eyes made it harder and harder to see as he got sleepier each second-but for some reason, he felt like if he surrendered to the tired darkness, he's lose himself. But that made no sense, right? The prince can never lose, especially not to his own entity. Princes are invincible.

Invincible...

A loud, metallic clang snapped him from his thoughts. Bel's eyes flew open-he never realized they were closed-to a sudden, blaring light. Instantly, whatever hint of sleep from before shattered into bits n' pieces. That girl, whose name he never did really ask, stood in front of him. The sinister masks from before were all tied over one shoulder... they were blank and stark white, smooth and shiny, but no longer the same empty shells as before. He could see underneath a few of them; instead of the same white material, he glimpsed some sort of crimson gel, writhing as if it was alive.

What was this about?

She stood in front of him while tinkering with one of the masks. Her bright green eyes, heavily contrasting the fiery hair, stood out to him. They were filled with unearthly concentration, the type that he never had the patience to hold... but there was a strange, evil presence about her... well, maybe not her exactly. Something around her. Something that watched the girl. He just didn't know what it was.

"What are you doing, peasant? Royalty doesn't wait, and I've been waiting here for a while," Bel growled, grinning at the same time. It was a deadly combination-well, if she was looking at him, that is. But no, she was transfixed with whatever those masks really were.

"Don't call me peasant, madman," The girl stated stoically. "Don't you know it's rude?"

Bel half pouted, like a kid who desperately wanted candy, but couldn't get any. He crossed his arms, trying to look menacing, but failed due to the fact that he wore no shoes and looked... wimpy. Royally wimpy. "First of all, the prince doesn't need to be polite. Only to a princess-and I don't see any here, ushishi... secondly, you _are_ a peasant! And thirdly...aren't _you_ being rude, calling me madman?"

The corner of her lip lugged down. She fumbled for some blue tack-like substance, before smoothening it onto another mask. "Well what am I supposed to call you then? Your highness? Prince? Royalty-guy? _Mister_ Madman?"

"Any of the first two you said, though I prefer your highness. Real name's Bel, though," he added with no apparent reason.

For the first time, she looked up to stare at him, as if he was crazy. "Are you serious? You highness? If I were to ever do that, you'd have to call me by my name too."

This time it was his turn to act incredulous. "You must be joking. Beautiful royalty such as myself, addressing a peasant with such pleasantries?"

She shrugged. "Then I won't call you anything but madman, Mr. Madman."

Belphagor muttered an advanced string of curses before glaring through his bangs. "Tch, fine. Tell me your name then, peasant."

The girl smirked. It was too easy to play that guy, she laughed to herself. "Flax. It's Flax."

Then she stopped smiling. Why was she even talking to him? Best not develop any kind of preference of him. He was disposable. He will be gone. It was her duty to fix he and his friends, or get fixed herself.

She didn't want that. Besides... for him, she had to wait.

For him, and that's it.

"Flax, then," Prince Bel said, testing it out. "Ushishi... weird name for a weird girl."

Flax rolled her eyes. More like, Bel was a weird name for a weird madman-she didn't say that out loud, though.

She reminded herself once more that it didn't matter. In five more minutes, he'd be gone, just like everyone else that the savior set his eyes on. Once the girl was satisfied with the last mask, she went right up to the prince's cage. He looked up, almost expectant, with an expression that said, 'Finally, what took so long?' Flax punched in a combination of letters and cryptic codes and the field zipped out, with a plasmatic 'zing' like some magnetic disconnection. Half expecting him to keep staring at her like some exhibit, she turned to get the equipment.

Instantly, he was on her. They were still enemies, after all. Didn't enemies kill each other?

There was a sharp pang on her shoulder, when the little chink of metal pierced the miniscule area between two belts. His weight overcame hers, twisting her around, and they both fell. With a bang, her back slammed into the cold silver floor-the air knocked out for a split second, the world spinning, before the red-head regained her senses. As expected, Prince the Ripper was on top, nailing her to the ground with both hands. He had a sadistic, fox-like grin that reminded her of someone else she knew. They were close... she could touch him if she wanted... so close that his hot breath met hers.

For a moment there was only silence. She examined him up and down, taking great care to keep the precious masks out of harm's way. The hair that covered his eyes still remained in the same place, surprisingly, there was a small indent around the top of his head as if it was used to housing some sort of hat, which no longer remained. Bel's body, lean but still muscular, rode countless burns and scars. Well, that was what happened when someone got stuck in a fire, anyway.

They stared at each other.

And she made the first move.

Shifting her dead-weight right leg, Flax brought up the other one to knee him in the stomach. Both of them were in bad shape-she naturally was not a good fighter... him? For all she knew, Faceless threw him all around the rings of Hell. He coughed and spluttered before bringing back his arm, and thrusting it forward. She moved her head just in time for the bit of metal to only slice her cheek, just a thin amount, not poke her eye out like how it may have. Had this been under normal circumstances, she knew she'd be dead.

But this girl had some tricks up her sleeves.

Grabbing on vial secured to her belt, she hit it against the floor. In its place there formed a thick blue fog, musty with the scent of stale... something... and rotten... something. Bel above her wrinkled his nose with disgust before suddenly growing pale, and dropping on top of her. He was like a drunken man, now, looking left and right with no comprehension. Flax knew what he was going through-probably the prince was seeing doubles, blinking constantly and light headed. Before she'd developed an immunity to the stuff, she'd felt it many times over.

By no means was it a pleasant experience.

With great effort, she pulled out from under him and rolled to the side. Taking the mask from before, she held it out to him. What happened next would be final.

Bel was looking at her now, with an odd mix of confusion, anger, and surprise. She approached him. This moment was in her favor. Stretching out the mask, the girl frowned.

"I'm sorry."

Two words.

Then darkness.

The mask was over his head.

-Faceless-

The last thing Bel remembered was a blurring, searing pain. Something cold stung his eyes, and when they opened, everything was all wrong. Flax was blue for one. To top it off, she had four eyes. Four braids, too. As for belts? Counting would give him a head ache. The room was in bad shape, too; the cages that held Squalo, Levi, Lussaria, Fran and Mammon were shaped like bananas. Also green. What was with green?

And then Flax, again and again. She was doing something. Then she got bigger... maybe she was walking towards him? Yeah, that had to be it. But he just sat there like a moron, blinking, blinking, blinking. And then something wet on his face. Something red. Something black.

The mask.

And now?

Now he didn't know here he was.

Because now, Bel awoke with his vision fixed, lounging on a huge, king-sized bed covered with smooth leopard-fur. Similarly designed slippers dressed his feet that should have been bare and bruised. He looked up to see sharp bangs of white-gold, not the last burnt black-blonde he remembered.

What was going on?

_**Ta dah, chapter 7 ^.^ Personally I think it's my worse chapter yet (I finished it at midnight after all) but oh well, I promise the next one will be better! Also, if you have any plot-related questions, free feel to ask away. Since I haven't updated in a while, minus the last chapter, I don't really remember exactly everything I was gonna include, so if you ask a question I'll make sure it gets answered. Anyway, there's a more important matter at hand- I never thought of pairings yet. Ever. So... what do you guys think? Who should Chrome be paired up with? Bel? Hibari? Someone else?**_


	8. AN

Um...So I won't be updating this story anymore. Sorry to everyone who actually liked it T.T ): But I kind of have no motivation. I stopped writing for two months from when I last stopped because of huge life stuff [personal things and marching band] and then by the time I got back to it, I just hated this tory and its rediculousness so much I didn't want to go back to it. Sowweeeee...D:. BUT. I am going to be starting up a waaaay more interesting story with Chrome titled 'When they Stopped Counting'. I've updated an intro. Hopefully you don't want to kill me and care enough to check it out-I promise I won't ditch it it half a year. :3


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